


Duality

by KingofPillows



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Android, GLaDOS is rude as usual, Other, Portal Stories: Mel, Rated T for swears, Seriously I don't ship these boys and girls together, Squishes for life, These are actually the droids you're searching for, Things Get Heavy, Will update tags, i think, idk - Freeform, platonic fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-10-31 19:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10906296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingofPillows/pseuds/KingofPillows
Summary: Wheatley is back from space, Virgil is in exile, and time is not on either of their sides. With only the threat of death on their backs, they'll have to choose between their survival or the lives of the ones they care for most.





	1. Meteors

  Space, in Wheatley’s opinion, was boring. _Painfully_ boring. There was nothing to do, or even look at. Just the constant presence of the moon, the sun, the Earth, the white dots, and occasionally a rock or two. Even the Space Core was a boring constant in his endless exclamations of their surroundings. Making the small, emergency radio they communicated with alive with a noise Wheatley just didn’t care to listen to.

   The only time things changed was when Spacey’s ramblings of his obsession paused. In that time, the void surrounded the Intelligence Dampening Sphere in a soundless curtain. Those were the times Wheatley didn’t like staying silent. He rambled on until there was nothing left to talk about, even if the Space Core started to speak again. He’s just keep going and going.

This was one of those times.

“You know mate- I wonder what they’re all up too. The humans. What do all those smelly humans do on their weird blue ball thing-.” 

“ **-Earth! Earth is a planet! Planets are in SPAAACCEEE** _-_ ” 

“-probably nothing but human things. Boring, smelly human things. You know- I don’t know if humans even _are_ smelly. You know, no nose and all. Do they even have a smell? Probably something unappealing. Like oranges… Do _those_ smell bad too? What smells bad to a human?”

“ **Space!** ”

“I don’t think space has a smell, mate.”

 _“_ **Space smell! Smell of Space! We’re in Spaceeeee!! Can we see space rocks? Friendly space rocks-** _”_

    Wheatley’s optic shrunk down to a pinpoint size and darted around. Suddenly on lookout for asteroids or space junk on a collision course.

   Once, not too long ago, a rather small chunk of rock had smacked Wheatley clear in the side and pushed him straight into the Space Core. The momentum pushing the yellow-eyed core further back in the Moon’s orbit than he. Separating them by a large distance. The rock’s impact was not big enough to cause him, or the other core, to shut down- but enough to seriously damage Wheatley’s casing to a point where he found it difficult to roll in around in it. It had hurt like the devil back then, and still hurt now. He caught himself watching for rocks repeatedly after that.

   However there were none to be seen within miles of their current position. Wheatley let out a simulated sigh of relief.

“Honestly. Don't scare me like that! It's bloody rude, that is. What is it with you and space rocks anyway? It's unreasonable to like something so dangerous. Absolute insanity. Don't really understand the whole space thing anyway. Why space? Why do you only talk about _space-_ ”

   The Space Core wasn't listening to Wheatley list off how rude the false alarm was or about Wheatley’s problems with him at all. Instead, he spun around his casing while shouting some more. Making observations about the moon and stars. Shutting out his only friend's negative opinions on his mannerisms. Pausing his spinning to point out constellations.

  Wheatley rolled his optic with a heavy sigh and was very, _very_ bored.

========

 

   GLaDOS watched the co-op initiative scramble around uselessly through another chamber. This was one of her harder testing tracks, one she deviously put together for _her_ and modified for the little pair of robots. The pair of glorious breakthroughs in design and engineering that was almost better than any human subject she had watched. The best minds in Science put them together, and the best minds in Science (in her opinion) created a pair of glorious _idiots_.

   There was a slow drum off annoyance banging somewhere in her files as the bots kept falling into toxic pits or tripped into burning in lasers. Killing each other for the fun or simply misplacing portals to get revenge at the other. Nothing was getting done. Correction, _Science_ was not getting done. Patience wearing thin, she turned on the intercom and spoke in a slow, monotoned voice. 

“ _The lack of professionalism is going on your record. Due to this, I’m taking off five Science Points”_

   That got their attention. Atlas flailed his oddly jointed arms about in attempt to ask her not too. P-Body slumped for a moment, then trilled in a pitched mechanical voice towards her partner. Atlas turned to P-Body, glanced at the watchful red eye on the wall above him, and followed after his companion to complete the test chamber. Still upset at the loss of points. There were no actual Science Points to be given or taken from the two. A simple motivation to keep them moving forward, and it worked like a charm nearly every time. The wall of patience slowly returning, she watched them test through chamber after chamber until an idea hit her. An idea that generated more questions as she thought.

   These robots weren’t doing much for Science. They were, after all, artificial and didn’t have the real things humans had that made them good subjects. Good sacrifices to Science. In essence- she was basically testing herself. Upon asking herself exactly what she was testing the immediate response was her patience. All of her patience. Sure, the tenacious subject had done that too. Really pushed her buttons (literally in some cases) and tried her emotions to the brink of murder.

    If only there was a way to test something else. Not human, but not a Co-Op Bot. The only thing that came to mind were the other robotics and somewhat sentient objects that existed within the facility’s walls. Turrets, Cubes, Companion Cubes, Personality Sphere- that’s it. If she could grin, she would.

    Her attention turned back to the Co-OP initiative calmly. Watching them just as they finished the track’s last chamber. They high-fived with a loud metal CLANG, trilling and whirring in celebration of their successful mastery of the track.

“ _Blue, Orange. Congratulations on completing the easiest track in the facility. Go to your pods while I find a new test for you.”_

    Obediently, they did. Only, once they were disassembled, they were not reassembled anywhere else in the facility. Put into a timeless sleep until she was ready to use them again. Her mind now free from distractions, she focused on her earlier idea.

    Those balls of code were purely AI. However they all had something human about their speech and actions. Just their personalities in general. All simulated, of course, as far as anyone knew. But some were incredibly intelligent, and some weren’t. Some were even made idiots or foaming-at-the-mouth-if-it-really-had-a-mouth angry. Testing them would be an interesting contribution to her beloved Science.

    But how would she test beach balls on rails to test in a chamber? Where feet, arms, and jumping abilities were needed to get through? The solution was an easy find for someone with her mind. The designs and shells already made years ago in some vaulted part of the facility she only barely had access too. If needed she could rebuild the testing initiative to drag a core down there and plug in cords. She could handle transfers faster than that clunk of a computer could.

    The hard part was deciding which pathetic core she'd test first. Which to subject to the temporary agony of a conscious conversation process. Who deserved it? Who was perfect to be the first subject in her new idea?

    The one came to mind rather quickly. ‘ _Perfect’_ she found herself thinking, ‘ _That will do nicely’_. If that figurative grin was real, it'd be widening with malevolent intent, cold revenge, and the excitement of a new idea.

She knew _just_ the core.

 

========

 

    Wheatley had shut his optic to keep any tiny space pebbles from scratching his already cracked optic. Not much longer after Wheatley’s rambling about manners and false alarms, two meteors and crashed together somewhere nearby. Orbit and momentum sent the rocky rain towards the two cores.

   The rocks of varying size hit Wheatley's case with _tinks_ , _clinks_ , _thuds_ , and _clangs._ All with different volumes and impacts on his pain simulators. The core refused to open his eyes as a somewhat baseball sized rock hit his left side with a _THUNK_ that sent his shell spinning in the same direction the rock was one going. The lucky thing taking his drifting seat in space.

“ **Space rocks! Space rocks hit Space Friend. Call the Space Cops. Bad space rocks. Hey- Heeey. Where’s Space Friend going? Ow! Where’m I going? Oh. OH. Leaving space! No, don't wanna leave space. Aww. Hi Space Friend!!**

 Wheatley, when he opened his wide optic, could see the Space Core coming up on his left. Guessing he was hit just a bit harder and thus staying in place three feet in front of him. Now he was an idiot sometimes, this is true, but he knew he didn't hear the other core’s exclamation at being hit. And then he fully noticed the pulling. Officially freaking out.

“We’re moving! Ha-haha! Moving! Brilliant! We’re going back to Earth! Hahahaa!!”

    Wheatley was laughing at this as his space companion was rambling about the things he didn't want to leave behind in his beloved namesake. He truly didn't want to leave it behind. In all honestly Spacey was _afraid_ to leave. He didn't know how to explain the bad feeling he wouldn't see it again to his friend. Who kept laughing until the blue eye shrunk into a pinprick. So Spacey named out loud everything he knew about space, keeping his eye on the far off stars and the friendly face of the moon.

“Woah woah wait what if this is _Her_ doing? Oh God if it is we're going to die! Well- I will. Unless you took over the facility and stuck her in a vegetable. I… I don't think you did that. Then again I did stay away from her chamber for quite a while while she was dead. If-If on the off chance this _isn't_ her then we're both going to die no matter what. Because we're going to Earth. Earth is made of- you guessed it- EARTH. We're going to be fireballs of fire on the ground! Fire!! Never really cared for fire, actually. It's too hot. With all its fire-ey-ness. But we're going to be fire, and nothing, and DIE. Don't know about you mate, but I'd rather stay alive.”

“ **Space fire!** ”

“No! Not space fire! Earth fire! Space Core and Wheatley fire! The definitely _dead_ kind of fire!”

“ _Be quiet, Moron._ ”

   The Voice was thunder over Wheatley’s radio. It even got Spacey to be quiet. Their tiny little radio lit up with both static and her voice thanks to the distance from Aperture. The pulling was stronger than before, dragging them just a bit faster through the void of space. Wheatley found himself wanting the deafening silence back.

“What- What’s happening!? Why... What!?”

“ _Silence._ ”

   The request was gladly granted, so she continued.

“ _Good. Listen close, and listen carefully. I’m saying this only once and not repeating. Don’t think too much into this but I need you._ ”

“I- Oh. You.. You _need_ me?”

   Wheatley’s pathetic attempt to make a joke backfired when a loud pre-recorded screech of a burning turret played over the radio. Making his optic tilt and dilate even more as a reaction to the murderous sound that attacked his audial processors.

“ _Oops. Don’t know why that played. My mistake. Either way, to answer the question, yes. For Science. I won’t explain much in fear I might fry what little is left of that circuit board of yours. But try not to move too much. The Aperture Science Tracer and Retrieving Super Magnet only has a limited field of influence. You wouldn’t want to crash into a building full of angry birds, now would you?_ ”

   The Intelligence Dampening Sphere shivered as the static slowly faded and left her voice in a crisp, clear monotone. She couldn’t see, but he nodded. Franticly. Loudly rambling and stuttering over words in his panic.

“O-Of course! I-I mean I wouldn’t want to land in the b-bird building! But uh- You know you don’t need _me_. Wasting a lot of uh- o-of power! Yes, power to get us. I mean we were having just a grand time up here. In orbit. Lunar Orbit, to be exact. We got rocks a-and stars! Earth looks wonderful from up here too! R-Really you’d love it. If you let us stay we can- can send photos! I’m sure there’s some kind of alien postman! Right Spacey?”

“ _Shut up_ ”

    Her voice silenced any attempt to continue speaking. GLaDOS could feel the simulated migraine building in her sensory files. This moron wasn’t even in the atmosphere yet and his voice was already grinding her audial processor. She refocused her energy in working the retrieval magnet- targeting specifically the two cores. It was crude, last second in design and construction. Not even tested or anything as it was built earlier that morning and placed approximately underneath a rather familiar parking lot on the surface.

    A Party Escort Associate was already waiting on the surface to retrieve whatever hit the ground. Tall and thin. A horrific mess of rusted parts and a glowing pink optic, a serial number was once painted carefully on it’s side. Scratched off with time and only leaving the numbers 068a.

    Wheatley didn’t know this, however. And Instead was staring at the blue marble that drew closer with every terrifying second. They were moving fast, frighteningly fast, towards the atmosphere. He tried to focus on anything, _anything_ other than the impending doom waiting for them on the planet.

    He remembered there was a “them” in this situation. He looked to the space loving companion in front of him. Even with the small dot of an optic, Wheatley managed to pull his shields into a crude smile. In human terms, that is if he had a face to actually emote with, the smile would appear forced. Terror in the iris, eyebrows and lid pulled into a sad and frightened state, the image of a reassuring lie. He looked to Spacey with this expression once the realization had hit him.

   They hit the atmosphere with a thundering _BOOM_ over their radio and the crackling of static. Music from some turrets in the facility overrode the channel _She_ was occupying. Words too scrambled to hear this high up.

    A red arc appeared not far from their shells and heat starting to build in their metal bodies. Spacey watched as blue quickly swallowed up his stars and then directed his sight to Wheatley. His own optic shields pulled into a Core’s best imitation of a grin. The kind that stretched ear to ear in overwhelming joy.

   Their casing started to get hotter, and began to glow a dull red as they moved. That red getting brighter and brighter as the ground grew closer. They broke through a thin layer of clouds in the Mesosphere as the static-clogged music cleared for a few moments before it was cut off. A heavy layer of misty grey clouds let them pass through the stratosphere.

   Too close. Way too close. Wheatley risked glancing at the outside world. His previous wish to escape came to mind. With it, his betrayal of that human lady. There were wide fields of wheat somewhere in the distance. Blissful and swaying under a grey sky. An old, decrepit part of the facility was farther, to the west. Rubble and barely standing. But below him were trees. Endless, green and orange trees around what was their target.

    Wheatley looked back at Spacey as the parking lot, and the Party Escort Associate drew nearer. More defined and clear. He said something, that yellow core. He didn’t think hearing something from him would hurt in the seconds he had to process it. The ground hit, the Space core made an echoing _THUD-BOOM_ as it hit the concrete. Smashing rocks just before Wheatley did the same. Both laying there in what seemed to be death among weeds and crumbled concrete.

 

“ **Thanks for going to space with me** ”


	2. Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a house call, a conversation, and a summons.

  The Party Escort Associate stood in GLaDOS’ chamber with a blackened core in each hand. The optic shields closed and no indication of them really being active anymore. She sent down two claws to take them off the thin robot’s hands and put it into sleep mode. Another claw descended from the ceiling to carefully pick up the old bot and take it to a different part of the facility.

  Once it was gone, She looked skeptically at the two cores. Repairable to an extent and nothing she couldn’t handle. The thing didn’t really need to be fixed in the first place. Just awake and aware of its surroundings and situation before the experiment started. However, it was something she really didn’t want to do herself. There was already another task at hand, other than running the facility, that warranted more attention than the I.D. Sphere. It was vital that it was finished before he had the chance to come back online.

  There was one other AI who could do the repairs without question, and she immediately sent the ball of scrap towards the repair bay with a message. The other core was tossed into the corner of the chamber idly. Yellow optic cracked and dull.

  She focused on opening a door near the old human offices. It held a critical part of this experiment- and without it, everything would take much longer than She’d want it too. If only that stupid door frame AI wasn’t so stubborn it’d be open quickly. But, seeing as if she removed the AI the door would become a wall, the only choice she had was to convince it to open on it’s own.

 

========

 

  Virgil was seeing off his regular, Glitchy, once again. This time, the purposeless core was leaving with a new cooling fan and handle bar after trying to see if he was meant to race. Race against what? Virgil didn’t know and he didn’t want to ask. Glitchy called back another grateful thank you as he whirred down the rail.

  The Maintenance core turned and went to straighten up his workspace. It was new, ever since the I.D Core ruined the place everything had to be replaced and rebuilt. Everyone had problems the past five years. What with the disrepair making everything difficult to traverse and test with. The Nanobots and Virgil gained a big workload, tasked to fix-up the smaller things She couldn’t reach. The facility was in near perfect working order since then, and Virgil finally found himself with very few repairs to be done, other than maintaining his testing track and other smaller details.

  It was peaceful and quiet in his downtime. Not that he had much of it, but he preferred it to the hustle and bustle of human escape plans. No toxic goo trying to flood the facility, or a security system pumping that goo, or worrying about getting a tired human to the surface without any bullet holes. That time, albeit high-stake at some parts, was still a fond memory of Virgil’s.

  Mel had been his bed-headed saviour in boots. If it weren’t for her well… Virgil didn’t like to think about what could’ve happened without her. Still, those memories were some of his best. Coaxing her through everything, seeing her smile at him ever-so-often, trusting him with every move after the lies in the beginning. In such a little time Virgil grew fond of her. Even missed her when he had time to think.

  Remembering this also brought back Virgil’s fear of being found out. Protocols dictated that She had to give permission to release a live subject from the facility. Mel was registered as a test subject, after all, and it was still against the rules to have released her without authorization. Heavily punishable in any way seen fit, knowing the boss, it would be an all-expense-paid, one way trip to the incinerator. And with every circuit in his hull, Virgil begged Science She wouldn’t find the automatic testing footage and data.

  There was a loud _ding_ from a nearby monitor that shook Virgil from his memories. With a simulated sigh, he moved over to look at the screen. And as he did- a loud banging noise arose from the management rail.

  From the hole in the wall where cores would come and go, emerged a claw, in its loose grasp was the blackened hull of a core. Eye closed and systems dead. It was thrown onto the workdesk with a careless thunk before the claw left. Much more silent than before.

  Virgil stared at the thing in shock. With its appearance, it should’ve been scrap by then. Hardly fixable in that state. The monitor dinged again to reach Virgil’s attention. The message it read didn’t have a signature. Which was all the information needed to know for the sender to be named. A shiver ran through the Maintenance core’s hull as the words ran through his processor.

_“Wake it up and bring it to me.”_

  It was suspicious and confusing. What had this core done to be baked in an incinerator only forcibly be woken up again? It was haunting to think She could be this cruel, then again she had chucked innocent cores into the fire for not following code before. If this thing had put her into a bad mood then nothing couldn’t be escalated quickly.

  To keep from wasting too much time, Virgil went straight to work fixing the core. Having enough of his version of a heart to turn off the pain simulators and repair at least part of its hull before trying to wake it up.

\--

  The whole process of replacing key parts didn’t take too long. About an hour, at most. The optic, the cooling fan, the memory storage, and the bits of melted circuitry were touched up and re-wired. A quick scan showed it still had files in it’s memory, nothing missing as far as he knew. The best thing for Virgil to hope for now was that it actually woke-up with its memory uncorrupted once the simulators were off.

  The first thing it did was scream. Not in a sort of mortal terror, or fear, but it seemed to be for something else entirely. Like he was seeing something most unlikeable. He calmed after a moment before the pinprick of a blue optic darted side to side quickly before panning up to look at the Maintanence Core. They stared for a long minute before the blue core screamed again in terror. Prompting Virgil to try to calm him down quickly.

  “Hey, Hey. Calm down! You’re okay!” Virgil shouted, the other core stopped yelling and stared.

  “Where am I? Oh- oh _She_ killed me didn’t she? This is the robot afterlife? It’s a bit dreary…”

  Virgil listened to the babble as he stared at the thing on the repair desk. Choosing to ignore the insult on his workspace. “You’re not dead. Just in my repair bay. I’m Virgil, by the way. Virgil the Maintenance Core, ah, she burned you up pretty bad- huh?” The flower-printed core chuckled for a moment before setting another look on the burned hull.

  “Yeah- well, to be honest She didn’t burn me. More like used a giant magnet to pull me from space. The whole crashing thing did all the burning. That reminds me- did you by any chance wake up Spacey? See he fell from the sky with me and I’d very much like to make sure he’s good and alive, so if you could just bring him up here that’d be _marvelous_.”

  Silence enveloped the two as Virgil processed exactly what was said and requested of him. A scan of the core showed the only corruption in his system was the physical stuff that hadn’t been fixed. No corrupted files or out-of-place data. So why mention the Space Core? He was up in space with the rogue I.D Core.

  “Oh, and I’m Wheatley. Just incase you were wondering.”

  The name set off the bell that got the gears spinning. “You mean you're the _I.D. Core_?” Virgil’s calm, accented voice turned sharp and accusing. Wheatley attempted to shrink down and look as small as possible once he heard it. Squeaking out a small ‘yes?’ as a reply.

  Now Virgil was usually a calm and collected core. With little emotional flares like every other personality sphere in Aperture. But with older ones like him, those flares tended to turn into wildfires as quickly as a human can go from mad to sobbing in the proper circumstances. This flare was turning into one such occasion.

“You were the core who put himself in power?”

  A quiet nod in response.

“I- you- Do you know how much _damage_ you did to the facility? How many cores went critical or even _died_ because of the damage? Heck- we’re _still_ fixing up broken chambers and rails!”

  That flare was turning into a small bonfire, which Wheatley quickly threw kerosene onto.

“To be fair, mate, that human lady put me into the port. Not me. Bit of a fault in your ‘put himself in power’ bit.”

“You still destroyed everything! I heard you tried to kill the very human who helped you! Why would you go about betraying a friend like that?”

  Wheatley considered this and then thought of something to distract the Maintenance Core. “Well what about you? Haven’t you tested and incinerated humans on your track?” He said, thinking he was clever. The other core paused to think for a moment.

“My track doesn’t connect to the incinerator. They get through and go to cryogenic storage. The only deaths are if a subject falls into goo by mistake or gets hit by a laser. The only tracks that go into an incinerator are- wait don’t distract me.”

  Virgil was attempting to put out the emotional fire by turning to a monitor and quickly read over a list of the day’s chores. Letting the I.D Core sit there and think his mistakes over. It was too late to do anything to fix the problem.

“So. Can you put me on a rail and let me go? Won't come back again. Promise.” Wheatley asked cautiously. Stepping around the embers of Virgil’s anger and straight into the fire pit.

  The Maintenance Core whirled around and was in front of the damaged Core in seconds. Optic shield and handlebar expressing a clear anger.

“Oh _sure_! I'll put you on a management rail! Maybe even put my life in danger to let you go, and then have you throw me under the spike plate once you're caught by Her! Maybe you'll be put into power and try to kill us all again!” He began sarcastically. “You know you wouldn't have been banished to space if you'd done what you should've and helped that human. Heaven knows _I'd_ never betray Mel like tha-”

  Wheatley stared now in more of a curious shock than a guilty shame. “Mel?” He asked with a smug tone. The way her name was said pissed Virgil off to no end. However it was out of character for him to speak in such an aggressive sarcasm, even more out of character to throw accusations around and let slip secret information.

“Mel. An old test subject from the human testing days. Unlike you I didn't lie to my subjects.” It was true, mostly. Parts of the truth erased and not replaced to cover his tracks. It still felt wrong to Virgil. He didn't like to lie. Even that terrible Cave Johnson voice he used with Mel in the beginning nagged at him every so often.

  The monitor beeped, requesting an update on how the repairs were going. Virgil had answered quickly about what he had done the best he could. The only reply after that was that she wanted Wheatley brought back her chamber. With Virgil along with him.

  A shiver ran through Virgil’s hull once more as he called a thin claw to pick up Wheatley in a firm grip. He didn't know why, but there was a bad feeling about the summons. The claw left first with Virgil right behind it. Nerves twisting up the closer they got.

 

========

 

  She hid a cold anger behind a calm face. The reason was simple enough. With the door now cracked open and the core still being repaired, She had the time to look through testing footage. Get the best data to compare to the new. 

  What she came across was data, very good data. Test Subject 01, C. [Redacted]. Tenacious as ever a subject could be. However there was another she stumbled across. Just as stubborn and a pure wonder to science. Mel [Redacted]. 1936 Nuremberg Olympian.

  The claw carrying Wheatley slid into the chamber via an open panel, followed by Virgil soon after. Once he was inside one of Her own claws picked up Wheatley and Virgil to hold them up higher. The panel and rail disappearing the higher they went.

  They rose until they were before her piercing yellow optic. Wheatley was trying to make himself as small as possible in his still burned state, while Virgil was attempting to not do the same.  Mostly succeeding in this venture. The air was tense and heavy.

  " _That was faster than expected, Maintenance_ ," Her voice boomed in calm monotone. " _But now that the idiot is fixed it's time for Science_."

"Um- wait up just a tick. First off, looking nice. All back in your body and- and not a potato. Good for you. Heh- Second you really _don’t_ want to turn me into some experiment. Really. Not very good at the whole ‘experiment’ thing anyways." Nervous laughter stuttered out of Wheatley's voice processors.

  She ignored him and continued talking. " _I'm not letting either of you go just yet. I've seen both of you test humans before. One of you is good at it, and the other is a moron-_ "

  At this Wheatley leaned to Virgil and whispered "who's who?". Causing Virgil to shoot him an annoyed look.

"- _and I wanted to see how you fared in the subjects position._ "

Confused silence blessed the room for a few quick seconds before Wheatley laughed again. "That's funny. Really. Cores test as humans? Heheh. Nice try but that's impossible. We're cores! Balls with little eyes. We're eyeballs! _"_

_"I have a way to fix that."_

Virgil was now heavily questioning why he was there. What did he have to do with this experiment? When did she watch him test? He was scared for a moment before she continued her spiel.

" _To get a better read on what I want you to do, I went through testing footage. Not a whole lot of things I haven't seen either firsthand for through a potato. But there was this little folder of freshly updated files that showed up. Never got the chance to watch it. All recorded while I was dead. Who knew_?"

  That was it. Virgil knew what she was getting at. He was dead for sure now. Dead or doomed to be subject to whatever experiment she was attempting to run.

" _It was all very interesting. A very good subject, you picked. I'd have to say you both did very good taking care of AEGIS, Maintenance. Congratulations on that. I owe her, and to an extent, you, a great deal of gratitude for saving not only my life, but the life of Science as well. Thank you._ "

  Both cores were frozen. However at the indirect mention of Mel, Virgil had buried his fearful shaking to appear more confident. The facade faltered once her optic narrowed and focused more on him than Wheatley. The claws descended and dropped the cores into two ports on the ground. The connectors clicked and locked them into place near instantly.

" _I wasn't going to test you at first, though. You are a valuable part of this facility with seniority enough to trump nearly every core here. An admirable trait, I must admit. However, I learned your entire goal was to let her escape."_

  Wheatley cast a smug glance at Virgil again. Calling him out on what he remembered as a big lie. Virgil ignored it to stare at the Central Core instead.

" _You even warned her about me. I'm not at all pleased with such an admirable tester being set free, or being indirectly described as inhumane to said tester. But what's done is done._ "

  Without any further warning- the port Virgil was connected too whirred loudly. A crackle of static and the golden optic of the Maintenance Core was black. Wheatley screamed bloody murder. Literally. She reared back in her chassis. Intimidating and powerful.

"Now that that's out of the way, let me explain what this experiment is."

  Wheatley stopped yelling to listen to her words. The blue optic only a trembling pinprick like the rest of his hull. 

" _See this test subject?_ " A monitor moved into his view. On it was a picture of Mel. Tired, pale, and holding an ancient portal gun. In the suspension beam on the end was Virgil. Though the image was bad quality he could still see the big things. Wheatley nodded quickly. " _You're going to capture her_."

"M-Me? Why me? What’d you do to him?” Wheatley gestured to the empty shell next to him. She laughed quietly and moved closer to the core.

" _You're expendable and I hate you. You honestly deserve more of a punishment than what I'm handing out. Considering you've shown an extensive dislike for humans, obvious since you killed 30,000 and even attempted to murder the one helping you in cold blood, I'm putting you outside to struggle. And because it's the least I can do to keep you in line I'm giving you a mission._ " 

  This was heavily suspicious and out of character for a being like GLaDOS. Willingly let someone go? Only in situations where she can't kill them and suffer extreme bouts of human emotion. This was not one of those situations. Tragically, Wheatley didn't understand this and instead decided to opt out.

"Mission! Oh well- Because I’m not really a fan of missions I’ll have to decline. Don’t want to leave my newly rebuilt body just yet. Heheh. Thank you for that, by the way. The body. But seriously though, gonna say no to that mission.”  
  
“ _You don’t really have a choice. Either you take this mission or you can rot in Android Hell for a few decades before I kill you. Which is a choice, but I know the answer you'll choose._ "

"Fine! Fine! I accept the mission! Just don't put me with the screaming cores!"

  GLaDOS could feel another figurative smile at this statement. He was just where She wanted him to be. Cowering and pathetic. " _Good. You're going to use Maintenance to find this escaped test subject and bring her here. I don't trust you to drag a human back to this facility. So you have four months until competent bots arrive. If she's in a town, I'll take them all. You'll be in contact with me ever so often. But if I find out you found a human community and you fail to report it- you, and every last human you find- will be forced back here and killed. Slowly. If you do contact me, once I have this Mel and every human in her community, you and Maintenance can be free in the human world. Permanently banished so I don't have to hear that hideous voice ever again._ "

  Wheatley was quick to agree. Without another thought, a stream of words poured from his processor to formulate his agreement. Not even thinking about how odd of a request it was.

" _Good. Oh- and don't tell the other core what you're doing. It will only end in him attempting to warn any human you find of this place._ "

   Before Wheatley could reply- there was an overwhelming sense of pain and loud mechanical noises. Much like the ones Virgil's port made before he was nothing but a shell. Wheatley didn’t have the chance to emote this pain before his optic blacked out and he felt nothing.  
 


	3. Tunnel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys wake up, things are found, and a plan is put in place.

 

  Virgil was in darkness, only a small, growing pain to indicate he was alive. He didn’t have a handle of time at the moment, but it felt like he’d been out for hours. Maybe even days. Either way, his sensors were alive with a sharp ache and burn with some unknown pressure. Maybe She had killed him and he was simply code in the mainframe? No, this pressure was too vivid for that to be a possibility. The pain grew to a point Virgil threw open his eyes. What he saw was surprising. Before, his vision was nothing but an amber monochrome. Now he was seeing everything with a green-warped tint. It was also full of muffled-sound and everything was difficult to move.

 In a sudden panic, Virgil jerked to the left. Colliding against something hard. He looked and only saw a shoulder and a shocked human face reflected back to him on the glass wall. Virgil attempted to yell, only to watch the mouth on the reflection open and the ache to grow much faster than before. The muffled sound of an alarm and an airlock releasing, then Virgil was on the ground. Propped up and hunched over on his knees and elbows, looking down at an old, thin grate hovering over dull green glowing water. That same water dripping off him slowly. Further disturbing the moving liquid below.

 There was a sound of someone coughing and the pain dulled. No, not someone, _him_ . Virgil shut his eyes and allowed it to continue until the pain was gone and all he could do was wheeze. Carefully, after the wheezing stopped, Virgil stayed still and breathed. ‘ _Breathe?_ ’ Virgil thought, ‘ _Robots don’t breathe_.’ He shut his eyes and went through his files.

  He found nothing until a cliche looking image of what looked like a scientist and a sci-fi movie android, took up his view. Reading in tacky letters over the top and bottom, ‘ **SO YOU’RE AN ANDROID. Learn how to operate your new body with this helpful booklet!** ’ It wasn’t a booklet, but Virgil went through it.  He had discovered that he was in a Aperture Science Human Relations Portable Android. Though it was an indirect statement- the Scientists were experimenting with human functions as their personalities grew, to make them more approachable to potential Aperture customers. Virgil’s model was one of these prototypes. Equipped with three cooling functions. Fans, cooling liquid, and their separate power source artificial lungs. Taking in oxygen through the nose and mouth to keep the fan running. ‘ _T_ _hat is the stupidest thing I have ever seen installed in a robotic device.’_ He thought harshly. At least he still had his WiFi.

 Slowly, Virgil sat up and surveyed his surroundings. Behind him was a glass tube, now half open and dripping with leftover water. Other tubes held androids, like himself, in a sort of stasis. He didn’t know the purpose of keeping mechanical beings in green-glowing liquid, but at least he was completely waterproof- minus the whole ‘lung’ problem.

 The tubes stretched down the room for at least eight to his right, and nine to his left. Then the room ended abruptly at a vault door. Each tube cast the otherwise dark room in an unsettling green glow, like the grate underneath him. Which ended about a foot from his face and turned into shiny white linoleum tiles. In the far corner, near the door, stood a large console. Old, and dusty. It had multiple monitors around it displaying nothing but the standard orange screensaver.

 Across from Virgil, on the wall, seemed a row of thin, wooden bookshelves. Each with a serial number written on the top of the wood and a standard full-length mirror between each one. Before Virgil was his own shelf. Not much sitting on it but two cardboard boxes, a plastic case, and an old leather satchel. Limply laying on the shelf with its strap over the side. On the boxes was something written in marker, but in the dull light and the distance, it was hardly readable.

 Virgil didn’t know what to think of this as he shakily tested his new legs. It took a few uneasy, ungraceful steps before he stood on the linoleum. One step on that sent him on his back. He was still dripping water- so it took a few moments to carefully stand and slowly pick his way across the floor to his shelf.

 He looked back to see his accomplishment. A full eleven feet from the tube. What a feat. That’s when he got a better look at the other androids. Each varied in many ways. Gender, Height, Age, Skin tones, shapes, and a multitude of other carefully picked features. However each had a small mark under their left eye. Each one different. On their left shoulders were logos. Most of them the modern aperture logo. Each wore a pair of shorts, built into their frames, with the females of the bunch having an added covering over their chests. All different colours.

 Noticing this, he felt vulnerable and awkward in his own dark yellow shorts. Naked even. Shakily he went to look in the mirror and inspect his own features. The first thing he noticed was the dull orange old Aperture logo in his shoulder. His features were next. He was pale, like someone who didn't get to go outside very often but loved the sun when he did. Standing at around 5’11” with broad shoulders stacked on a somewhat fit frame. In appearance he seemed around 35, sporting a strong jawline, a broad nose, and thin dark auburn beard. He had bright, unearthly golden eyes underlined by his own icon. Half of a bright yellow daisy-type flower. Lastly was his hair. The source of the dripping water was a curled, tangled mess of dark auburn that reached to at most the middle of his upper arm. Sticking to the oddly squishy synthetic skin.

 He decided he didn’t look half-bad for an old android. Especially with no broken skin or exposed parts, it was well-made. Virgil took two cautious steps to the boxes and noted the sharpie was his serial number written in small letters and numbers, above it was his name in larger, cursive letters.

 Pulling one off the shelf and setting it on the floor to open it, an alarm sounded with the noise of an airlock. Something fell to the ground with a large _thunk_ accompanied by the _whoosh_ of water escaping into the grate. The thunk was another android. A mess of limbs and hair on the floor about three tubes down from Virgil. It wasn’t coughing or wheezing like Virgil was. In fact it wasn’t doing much of anything except probably groaning. The sound was obviously Wheatley.

 The new android looked up after a moment of checking his own files for information, setting his chin on the grate to look around. He spotted Virgil. “Did you see the weird book too?” He asked.

 Virgil rolled his eyes and went about opening the box as Wheatley did almost the same thing as he had. Sat up, looked around, attempted to stand and walk, and fall down flat. Except he did it with a lot more fumbling. His picking around to the shelf involved more falling and flailing. Looking more like a drunken giraffe on ice skates that an a android on linoleum.

 Wheatley was tall and gangly, aged at about 28. Standing 6’6” at most. Pale, deathly pale. Narrow shoulders on a thin frame grounded with long legs. He had unnaturally blue eyes. Under his eye was no mark at all. Just a solid, grey square of metal. A narrow nose, and somewhat big ears, all set in a triangular face. His blond hair was short and parted to his right, unevenly cut bangs stuck to his forehead thanks to the water. On his shoulder was the modern blue Aperture logo.

 The tall blond looked in the mirror and squinted. “These optics are terrible. Can't see a thing, all blurry.” He mumbled before going about putting his box on the ground. Virgil would see his serial number written neatly with his name messily scrawled above it.

 Curious, Virgil watched Wheatley take out messily folded clothing and set them next to the box. He pulled out a pair of thick framed glasses, inspected them for a moment, before putting them on. “Oh! Much better. Must be one of those weird feature things in the book. Awful. Who would give bad optics to someone?” Wheatley went back to inspecting his features as Virgil pulled out clothing of his own.

 A pair of black work loafers, brown socks, solid black jeans(faded in the knees), and a solid dark gold button down shirt. Virgil found it easy to put on pants and a shirt- but fell over attempting the socks. The shoes were worse. However he managed in less of a struggle than Wheatley. Who was on the floor after attempting to tie a blue tie.

 Wheatley was smartly dressed. Black slacks that hung just under his ankles, a white button down, light blue tie, and simple blue converse. That same android went about grabbing another box to peer inside. Virgil decided the same, and pulled the satchel to sit on the floor with him. Inside were odds and ends. Two small books, yellowed and aged, one written in a language he didn't know and the other in English. There was a journal of sorts- locked without a key. A few old pens and what looked like a sharpened piece of graphite were slipped into a small plastic bag next to a tiny plastic box holding a set of mini-screw drivers. The box also held a cloth parcel. Unwrapping it Virgil found near ancient tools. A wrench, screwdriver, a hammer, and a pair of pliers. There was a wallet, but for the life of him he couldn't understand the thin chain wrapped around it and locked. The satchel was empty- so the items were carefully placed inside and the bag closed.

 Finally- on the bottom of the box- was a jacket. A letterman jacket, to be exact. Dark red, like his former hull, with lighter red sleeves. The collar and ends a dark tan with a gold stripe cutting through the middle. On the back was the number 02 officially embroidered into the material, the front right had a crudely cut grey cloth sewn into it in the shape of a wrench. The left sleeve had equally uneven yellow flowers sewn down it. Shrugging it on, Virgil found it was a bit big on him- but comfortable either way.

 In the front pocket was a hair ribbon, and Virgil used it to tie back his mop of hair into a low ponytail before slinging the bag across his chest casually. Wheatley had shrugged on a black hoodie and carelessly stuffed a small blue cloth, a black rectangle in a plastic bag, and some rabbit shaped necklace charm into his pocket before turning back to Virgil.

“So uh- about the whole ‘take-over’ thing. No hard-feelings, right? That was what, five years ago? Everything’s alright about it now, heh. No harm, no foul. Tell you what- I’ll even forgive all the yelling from earlier. There we go. Even. Even as- what, a scale? I guess a scale would be a good comparison wouldn’t it?”

Virgil violently rolled his eyes and huffed a short ‘sure’. Wheatley looked around after that with a hand rubbing the back of his neck, he decided to take a peek at the shelf next to his. On it was a box and a basic plastic case (Those held only a hairbrush and a mini-sewing kit). The box had the name Nolan written in rather feminine cursive over a hastily scrawled serial number. Wheatley looked to the android it belonged too.

 The boy couldn’t be older than twelve. With messy black hair and almost frail frame. The only indication as to who it could’ve been was the icon. A small image of saturn. No one needed him to be activated to tell exactly who it was supposed to be for. The bot brought a pang to Wheatley’s chest. One he quickly threw to the side once a door opened wide on the far wall of the room, opposite the console.  

 The heavy door slammed against the wall with an echoing _BAM_ that made both of the droids jump. Virgil in a somewhat surprised manner and Wheatley in a loud and comical manner.

 _“Step out of the vault_ ”

 Upon request they quickly left the dark room into a slightly brighter hallway. Running into an over-enthusiastic P-Body as they did. She whirred at them happily until _She_ spoke once more.

“ _Congratulations on being the first personality spheres to successfully inhabit an Aperture Science Human Relations Portable Android. This concludes the assigned experiment. Now, as a reward you two will be properly banished from the facility._ ”

 Virgil’s breath stopped and he could immediately feel his system start heating up as negative emotions popped up. The most dominant one being complete shock. He stared at the red-eyes camera with wide eyes. Wheatley impressively faked surprise. “Banishment? For what!” Virgil shouted. This couldn’t be happening. He had so much here. He had cores, testing tracks, and walkways to fix. Things to put back into order to get the place to former glory. What about his repair bay? His testing track? He was made for Aperture. What did he have beyond it all?

“ _Yes. Banishment. Both of you broke the rules. The moron tried to destroy the facility and kill me, while you released a test subject without authorization. The choices to deal with this are either a swift banishment or a prolonged torture until death. I’m pretty sure you both would prefer prototype human bodies on the surface compared to a slowly rising fire in the incinerator. Orange will lead you to one of the exits. So leave now before I change my mind._ ”

 P-Body led the way down the hall with an excited chirp. More in excitement to get the job done and go back to testing with ATLAS. Virgil shot Wheatley an upset look before following, Wheatley cast a wary glance at GLaDOS’ expressionless camera and did the same on shaking legs.

 They went through assorted offices, catwalks, and pre-solved testing chambers.. At first they were pristine, then they became filthy and overgrown, until finally they were thrown into a dull concrete tunnel.

_“Have fun and don’t come back”_

 The lonely Co-op bot stood in the last decrepit office hallway until the heavy door was shut. The resulting _bang_ that the door made echoed in the dark space longer than it would’ve inside. There was no turning back now. They were trapped outside in the dark. Seemingly too far from everything they’ve ever known as home.

 

\---

 

 The tunnel itself was cold, damp, and dull. The only existing light came from evenly spaced lights in the top on the inner wall. Each casting the same orange light as a streetlamp early in the morning. To his left, the tunnel went up in a gentle spiral, to the right it went down. Somehow managing to get even darker despite the evenly spaced lighting.

 Only two choices were available in this situation. Go right, and deeper into Hell. Risking life to stay where they weren’t welcome. Or go left, farther from the pit. Risking death in an unknown world they knew nothing about. The answer was the obvious one.

 Virgil led the way up the tunnel. Walking at a brisk, angry pace and nearly leaving Wheatley behind. The blond’s steps were still shaky. Better than a newborn foals, but not by much. Only managing to keep up with his long strides. The silence ate away at Wheatley. The echoing sound of Virgil’s hard-heeled work shoes on asphalt was unnerving at his speed. So Wheatley did the only thing Wheatley was good at. He started to talk.

 Wheatley's talking was of nothing extremely important. He was talking to fill space. He spoke about the unnerving yellow lights, a bird somewhere far in the tunnel behind them. Everything he said was easy to tune out in Virgil’s mood.

 Virgil, to put it bluntly, was mad. He hadn’t realized it before- but he was. Maybe it was because he had gotten himself into this mess. Maybe because he had let the cores down. Leaving behind things he had the time to fix then and there. Because of his stupid exploring idea and falling off the rail, he had left everything behind. Aperture was his home, his priority, the only place he knew. And now he had nothing. Maybe if he hid Mel’s file. Named it something mundane like ‘Energy Pellet Pictures’ or ‘Turret Sheet Music’ then she would've glossed right over it and he would be inside. Working away and keeping his metaphorical head down.

 “So I was thinking,” Wheatley’s tone changed from useless babbling to somewhat suggestive. It caused Virgil to stop tuning him out and listen. “What are we going to do? We’re basically exiled. Not much _to_ do at the moment. B-because I was thinking maybe we could try and find those humans?”

  Virgil stopped walking. Causing Wheatley to suddenly halt some few feet behind him. The yellow glow of the light only made things tense and silent. Shifting from foot to foot, Wheatley filled that silence. “I mean- the test subjects. Mel and the Tenacious lady. They have to be out here somewhere, right? I mean, they did leave the facility and probably live somewhere. Probably got a bit of a walk to do but it’s worth a shot.”

 Still frozen to the spot, Virgil looked ahead. He’d only thought about the negative. What he did to make things wrong. Never really seeing what was truly out here. Mel was out here. A friend. It was then that Virgil realized how much he’d missed the human. Getting attached in only the few hours since Mel woke up. For the first time since waking up, Virgil smiled. Excitement bubbling in his chest. He had arms, legs, senses, and WiFi. All powered by that bright, bright yellow star. He didn’t need Aperture. Yeah, it was his home, and his coding made him more than useful there, but he could do good out here. He could make a new home, make a new purpose. Show GLaDOS that the human world wasn’t going to be as bad a punishment as she thought.

 Wheatley completely expected Virgil to reject his idea. He was quiet for far too long and already angry at something. But Wheatley _needed_ him to accept it. His life was on the line if he didn’t. He was surprised when Virgil spun on his heel quickly. A beaming smile on his face and the glowing yellow flower brighter against the unearthly orange tunnel lights. Determination and excitement clear in his eyes.

“Let’s do it”

  Virgil had turned again and started to walk faster down the tunnel. Not angrily like before. The sudden mood change had thrown Wheatley off. He stalled until Virgil had called over his shoulder once far enough ahead in the curve Wheatley couldn’t spot him. Then the I.D. Core scrambled to catch up.


	4. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys walk, talk, and stare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise if any of the characters are ooc. First time writing a Portal fic.

  The two androids had found their way to the end of the tunnel, and now stood on the top of a three story parking garage. The building was barely standing. Old, overgrown, and full of ancient cars that wouldn’t work even if Virgil worked on one in the repair bay. Every car sat between fading white lines, and the road signs painted on the ground hadn’t been followed in years.

  The sky above them was grey and dreary. Heavy drops of rain pelted them repeatedly, surrounding them with the sound of water hitting concrete and the waxy leaves of the trees around the building. They had climbed to the top of the building to get a scope of the surrounding world. To find a sign of human life. All they got was a ocean of trees, littered with small, decrepit old buildings, and in the far distance, a near endless field of wheat.

  Wheatley had a hand over his eyes as he looked about. Trying to keep the rain off the insides of his glasses and finding it equally annoying to have the drops on the outside in his view. Virgil wasn’t bothering with covering his face. The grey world was nothing like they pictured. They imagined a bright sky, possibly a sun and a few bird songs floating to them from somewhere nearby.

  Far in the south Wheatley spotted another parking lot. Noting it was one he fell into earlier. Beyond he could barely see the parting in the trees to see an old road. That was their best bet of getting out of the facility’s borders. With his spare hand Wheatley pointed towards his discovery. “How about over there?”

  Following his line of sight, Virgil nodded, “Let’s get going,’ he said while turning to leave via an old stairwell. Wheatley followed, thankful to avoid the rain for a few precious minutes until they left.

  “Can't we fix up any of these cars? It'd probably be faster. And dryer. Really love the whole ‘move fast stay dry’ thing that cars have. Helpful,” Wheatley babbled only to get the response of Virgil’s eye roll and sigh. “That would be great if we had tools and knew how to drive.” He said, waving a hand to dismiss the topic. They kept walking.

 

========

 

  The trip to the road was long, uneven, and unpaved. With the few hills Wheatley had slipped on, mud had turned his knees brown in the process. However the trip on the road was longer. Without trees directly overhead to hide them from at least _some_ of the water, they were getting soaked at a faster rate.

  The road’s asphalt was cracked and old. Grass and weeds poking their way up between them. Mother nature was slowly taking back what was rightfully hers. Kicking up tree roots and clingy weeds at trip anyone walking past.

  Wheatley filled a good first portion of their walk with chatter. Telling untrue superstitious stories of the facility or explaining the evils of birds. Mostly it was talk about birds.

  Virgil listened with half an ear to him, and the other half to the world. He was unnerved by the lack of the facility’s hum, and the sudden attack of colour, smell, and sound around them. One of them had to keep their head in such a strange place, and since his companion was busy chittering away like a Co-Op bot, he was the one for the job.

  They walked for a few hours until the sky darkened even more. Still being pelted by heavy raindrops. It wasn’t until it was near pitch that Wheatley had begun to freak out. Causing Virgil to stop for the first time since hitting the pavement, that wasn’t just to wait for Wheatley whenever he tripped and fell on his face.

  That was when Virgil noticed exactly why the taller man was flipping-out. His cheeks, nose, and the tops of his ears had a soft blue-violet glow. Which seemed to glow brighter the more flustered he became. Wheatley looked up and Virgil and almost yelled again. “You’re glowing too!”

  Moving a hand to his cheek, Virgil noted a dull red-amber glow on his palm. Hardly visible if not for the lack of light. He could imagine that his own cheeks were glowing. With a quick check of files Virgil found this to be normal.

“The synthetic skin is thinnest there. All you’re seeing is the cooling liquid moving between it and the mechanisms. Nothing to worry about,” said Virgil as he pinched the back of his hand. He found that it hurt, and didn’t continue. Wheatley made a passing comment about how inhuman the entire thing was.

  Both of them were silent. Wheatley pinched his tie and rubbed the back of his neck. Eyes beginning a dull backlighting. “I-I don’t know why I- uhm. I didn’t mean to…” he fumbled quickly..

“We _are_ inhuman,” interrupted Virgil. Tone flat and accent heavy. The bodies they were in were strange, he had to admit, and no matter how right it felt- it was still wrong. Wheatley’s bad eyes and Virgil’s ability to breathe didn’t make this fact any less diluted. “We should keep moving. We don’t want to stay in one place for very long,” he added quickly, turning on his heel and pushing stray locks of hair away from his face.

\---

  They time spent walking was quiet. After more time Wheatley spoke up again. “Just to confirm- your name _is_ Virgil, right?” he asked. Virgil stopped and looked over his shoulder before nodding. An eyebrow raised. “Good! Good! I didn’t quite get it first time we met,” they began walking again, “I mean you said it. But I had so much going on. Waking up. Being burnt. Everything hurting. Crashing from space. So you know, just making sure.”

  Virgil shook his head. “Oh! Speaking of names, Space core’s name is Nolan. Did you know that?” Virgil answered with a half-amused no. “Well it is! Saw it on his box. Bot was right next to mine. Kind of weird though, his name was written all feminine. Not to dis feminine hand-writing or anything. Just found it odd that a scientist would write his name like that, all careful and all. Right?”

  Wheatley simulated clearing his throat quickly. “Speaking of Spacey- you never answered my question.” Virgil glanced behind him.

“What question?”

“Did you see him? I'm mean he should've been in before I was. Or sent somewhere else,” Virgil kept listening. “Still. Someone had to fix the poor bloke up, you know? Last time I saw him he- well he crashed into the ground. I just wanted to know if he was awake or not.”

  Wheatley really hoped he was alive. He didn't want to be the one to hear the last words for anyone. After all, it was because of the mainframe’s corruption that Spacey was exiled with him. And the consequences of that had sent them both to the ground. ‘No thanks to Her!’ He thought harshly. At least that's how he saw it all.

  Virgil sighed. “No. I didn't see him. I didn't even know he came back with you.” Wheatley went silent for awhile after that.

  The two walked all night, and kept walking for the next four days afterward. They had the ability to keep going, the thin bit of sunlight the rain clouds let through was enough to slowly charge their batteries. The rain didn’t let up at all. In fact it seemed to be following them. They didn’t process the cold. It wasn’t major enough to think of as Wheatley eventually began to jabber on about one thing or another. Not much to talk about when everything was the same. Usually it would be about some object in space.

  Late one afternoon, after the best of a week of walking, the two stood atop a hill. A good mile or so ahead began neatly paved asphalt, running between what looked like fenced in farmland. Around a mile and a half from the beginning of a farm stood a green sign and more farmland until, in the distance, the two could spot the outline of a small town. Near the road, somewhere on the four separate farms, were houses. Modest homes, with barns, dirt driveways, one even had a silo.

  The boys felt excited. They were so close, not even four miles, to their destination. Even under the bleak sky it was the best thing they’d ever seen. Both broke out into a quick walk, then into a run. Virgil thinking of exactly what to say to Mel if they found her. To explain what he was, how he was there, and just about anything else she’d want to know.

  Wheatley had somehow pushed aside his mission and buried GLaDOS’ underlying threat to think of finding that Tenacious lady. The chances of actually finding her were low, for all he knew she could be dead or asleep in the facility. He could say sorry! Make everything better. Give his world a smooth sailing. Hand over Mel to GLaDOS and live the rest of his days with Virgil and the lady. Friends.

  Either way, the taller of the two had ungracefully pulled ahead. Only to go skidding to a halt when the green sign came into view. Virgil slowing down with a loud jog before they both stood to stare. The green sign wasn’t large. Just a road sign. Original words faded to nothing by time and sun. White paint, chipped and worn, was scrawled on the front.

“WELCOME TO HOPE”

“Hope?” Wheatley asked, tilting his head and crossing his arms. “Kind of a boring name, innit?” he added. Virgil shook his head and looked out towards the town. It was so close, but it was best to conserve energy until the sun was completely out to charge. He started walking, followed by a chatty giant.

  They reached town quickly and stood at the edge for a moment. The square they stood at was more of a curved rectangle. Dead ahead and to the right was a space for people, and then the road continued. Around the square and road were shops. One big red warehouse that read ‘FARMER’S MARKET’, a town hall, a general store, a daycare, schoolhouse, post office, library, and a barbers shop. There seemed to be more shops down the road- but none stood out.

  Passerby hadn't seen them. Walking about under umbrellas or running with jackets hovering over their heads. There were a few children in raincoats hopping about in puddles. Virgil noted how much they could stand out. With their odd identifying icons (easily passed off as tattoos if they tried hard enough), and oddly coloured eyes, it would be simple for someone to call them out.

  Another thought at at Virgil’s mind. What if this was the wrong town? What if Mel wasn't here? Five years was plenty of time to get away from Aperture. Who's to say she didn't take those Olympian legs and run straight to the coast? He was debating telling Wheatley they should just leave when a woman left the Farmer’s Market carrying a red umbrella and a basket.

\---

  The last time Virgil had seen a human being was five years ago. She was undernourished, confused, exhausted, and pale. Tired blue eyes over a mess of freckles and stringy red hair pulled into a chaotic bun. An echo of what she once was- now wandering a sterile future in an old Aperture jumpsuit. A clear picture in his mind.

  Now, however, that image was different. Confidence in her step, glowing with health. Those blue eyes no longer tired, and red hair pulled into a fluffy red bun. Walking in a pair of red tennis shoes, grey high waisted jeans, a blue t-shirt, and a brown jacket. Basket in one hand and an umbrella spinning slowly in the other.

  His breath caught in his throat and he could feel his system heat up as the fan slowed. Mind blank and focusing on the fact that they found her. _Her_. Mel. Wheatley took notice that his friend wasn't moving and went about waving his hand in front of his face.

“Virgil? You alright mate? Or did everything stop working? Battery dead? No- you’re still breathing… Helloooo??” When Virgil snapped back into reality, Wheatley sighed with relief. “Oh good you’re functioning. Scared me there. You zoned out for a minute, see anything?” the tall bot added, sliding his thumbs in his front pockets.

  Virgil shook his head and took a deep breath. At this point Mel had stopped mid-stride in the square. Staring at the two with a curious expression which was somewhat hard to read considering she was on the other side. “No, everything’s fine I just- I found Mel,” Virgil admitted. Wheatley raised an eyebrow and looked around.

“The human you let go? I don’t see her.”

  Nodding quickly, Virgil shrugged his shoulders and discretely gestured towards the ginger-haired woman. “She’s over there with the red umbrella.” He did everything he could to not stare at her and look like a creep. Every carefully practiced line was now blanked and left him without any more words to speak.

  Wheatley spotted the woman and gave a short laugh, adjusted his tie, and turned to take a step forwards. “If you’re so afraid of a little talking, leave it to me,” He said smoothly. Already walking towards the human.

“Wha- where are you going?” Hissed Virgil.

“To go say hello.”

 

========

 

  The Farmer’s Market was louder on Sundays. The large warehouse filled with people and shopping booths created a hectic, but calm ambiance that Mel just couldn’t get over. The smell of the different fruits, flowers, and crafted trinkets gave the building something all its own. The electric lights running across the ceiling, lighting up the people below the best it could on the bleak day.

  On her arm was a basket of different fruits and vegetables to last the week. Currently, Mel was heading out of the building. Holding a closed red umbrella in her other hand. She passed by a young-ish man who called out and hurried to walk beside her.

“Mel, Not running the shop today?” He asked. He was tall, 5’7”, with smoothed back black hair and bright brown eyes. This man was named Aaron, he was in his early 30’s and helped to keep the Market running.

  Mel smiled at him. “Shop’s closed on Sundays,” She answered in a warm voice. It had taken Mel nearly two years to start talking louder than a whisper. At first it was quiet and rough, but now it was confident and comforting. She spoke much more than her roommate did, and was the voice of her shop. This shop would be a small bakery down the street. Given to her and her roommate for a good rent once they both became the mysterious northern strangers in town. Hope was an accepting town, no exceptions to that unspoken rule.

  Aaron frowned, one that said he had forgotten. “Aw man-” Someone in the crowd called for his assistance, “Gotta go. I’ll stop by tomorrow!” with that he was off somewhere else in the market. Mel rolled her eyes and started back out of the building.

  She stepped out into the square while opening her umbrella. Enjoying the mixture of market and rain before starting off. Her home and shop were down the street, off the main square. Not much of a walk to warrant the need of a car and she liked to run enough that she didn’t use the bike often.

  Mel started a calm walk towards the street corner to go home when she spotted a flash of red and blond from the corner of her eye and stopped to stare. On the north road, leading straight to three farms and a ranch, stood two perfect strangers.

  Hope didn’t get many strangers from the north. Usually there were visitors to the market from the south, or a traveling family from the east heading off to some unknown place out west. Even other farmers from the west came in to sell crops, shop, or participate in town events. Not one person dared to pass the Harrison’s and the Patrick’s farms to explore the endless old woodland. And only two people ever came from the north road.

  That would be Mel, and the stoic Chell.  Only five year residents and still mysterious. Mel was certain the only thing in the north was the unknown Aperture. But these two strangers were now on the road. The taller blond waving a hand in front of the shorter ginger’s face. That same ginger stared at her, awestruck and frozen. Both were soaked with water. More water than a few minutes in the rain could deliver.

  When he jumped, the two exchanged words until the taller looked around, spotted her, and fixed his tie. He said something while walking away that made the other scramble after him. The man, once standing in front of Mel, was taller than Mel expected. Near towering, while the other wasn’t much taller than her proud 5’5”. The tallest of them had a wide, welcoming smile and inhumanly blue eyes.

“Hello there! Wonderful day, isn’t it?” The taller gestured with an open hand to the sky. Which continued to pour water as they spoke. Mel raised an eyebrow, glanced at the sky, and nodded with an amused smirk pulling at her mouth.

“Well, my name is Wheatley and this is my friend-” Wheatley gestured to the ginger, expecting him to introduce himself. However he stayed still, clutching his bag’s strap in a nervous death grip, holding a thin-lipped nervous smile. And keeping quiet to force Wheatley to continue awkwardly. “-who is not going to speak. Okay. Anyways we’re both new in town and wondering if you could help us. See, we’re looking for some friends. Well, more like his friend with a bit of hope of finding my own. Considering the town is named Hope I see a chance of this happening. And- Oi, Virgil. Go on, aren’t you going to say hello to the lady? Don’t be rude mate, we’re looking for your friend.”

  Virgil sent a sharp look towards Wheatley at this. Mel’s eyebrows twitched at the name, but she turned either way and smiled as an indication she'd help. She expected Virgil to stumble over words and explain who they were looking for,  perhaps add some flattery, going from his nervous stature. However this is not what happened.

  What happened was Virgil took a deep breath and let his bag go. Standing up straight, flattening his shoulders, and pushing his hair from his face. The tight smile exchanged for a wider, warmer one. Like greeting an old friend. To Mel’s complete and total shock, he opened his mouth and said, in a slightly shaken but relieved tone,

“It's later, Mel.”


	5. Sun Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People are met, people are spoke too, questions get answered, and questions go unasked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez. The word count for each chapter gets higher every time. So here we are with near 5,110. Damn. At least it's a long chapter!!! Also, sorry if the formatting is off. Phones are hard to judge things with.

  Virgil could easily write a mile long essay telling himself how stupid he had sounded. After all those carefully memorized words and mannerisms for that exact moment, he still managed to say something unprompted and unneeded. ‘It’s later’? Seriously? What if she didn’t remember him? What is she didn’t remember their goodbyes before she was whisked away via elevator? The greeting would be out of context and plain creepy if that was the case. That thought terrified him. What if Mel really _did_ forget him?

  Mel’s face was flat as she stood stock still. Staring at him. Her eyes were a mixture of so many emotions just naming one would be a challenge for the best of psychologists. Wheatley carefully hovered his hand near the food-filled basket when it seemed Mel would let it go. Her hand slowly losing its grip.

  Swallowing the lump in his throat- Virgil launched into a quick explanation. Effectively breaking an inexpressive silence. “Mel, uhm- this is probably fairly confusing for you. A-and it is for us too but just hear me out. See there is this computer and She was kind of mad and She threw us into these bodies and out here and-”

“Virgil?”

  Her voice was barely over a whisper. Just loud enough to be heard over the distant roll of thunder and the sound of rain hitting harder against the stones in the empty square. Still, the word was louder than anything in Virgil’s ears.

  Virgil stopped talking near instantly. So unaccustomed to hearing her speak and throwing his train of thought into the gutter. Her voice was warm, maternal almost. Something behind it screamed that she was not a force to be reckoned with if time came, it was comforting. Virgil slowly nodded in response to his name. Leaving the next few moments to unravel like a movie scene.

  Dropping the umbrella and basket, Mel closed the three feet of space between them as quickly as she could. Dragging the taller android into a tight hug and burying her face in his shoulder. In attempt to ground the fact that this was, in fact, Virgil the Maintenance Core. His clothing smelled wet and old, yet had the scent of cut grass and lavender embedded deep into the fabric.

  Wheatley barely had time to catch the basket before it dropped everything. Only losing an apple to gravity in the process. He picked up the umbrella in his free hand and awkwardly held it over the two. Starting with an eyebrow raised at the show of affection and studying Virgil’s confused yet relieved expression.

“You’re not fake, right?” Mel mumbled. Cautiously, Virgil hovered his arms in much the same fashion as Mel. With this untested technology- it could be stronger than expected. The last thing Virgil wanted was to hurt his friend. Still, Mel could tell he was hugging back.

“I’m not fake, I promise,” Virgil replied in a softer, quieter voice than the nervous stammer he had before. Mel didn’t move away just yet and only hugged tighter, a smile forming across her features. After another silent moment- She snapped back into reality and let him go. Stepping back and smiling wider than Virgil was at that moment.

“I don’t know how you got here, what you are, or who _he_ is,” Mel gestured politely to Wheatley, who attempted to repeat his name only to be cut off with the rest of the human's statement. "-and honestly, right now I don’t care.” her words were relieving and joyful as she gently picked the basket and umbrella from Wheatley’s hands. “Let’s just go get you two dried off, okay?” Mel started to slowly walk towards the street corner. Glancing back and urging them to follow.

  The boys obediently followed after. Wheatley quickly got to talking. “It’s incredibly lucky that we found you this quick. We’ve been walking for forever. I’ll tell you, That Place is just too far for leisurely strolls through the forest. And-” Virgil shook his head and Wheatley fell silent. The street was in no way the right place to speak about Aperture or anything to the north and the topic was placed on abrupt pause. A different topic took its place.

“How’ve you been?” Asked Virgil.

  Mel had to think before answering. “Copacetic, actually. Hope is a good town, a good place to start a life. They didn’t question who I was or where I came from. Real accepting people for the get-go.”

“That’s good to hear. I-It’s strange to actually hear your voice, though. I-In a good way, of course! It’s just- I didn’t expect you to have one after…” Virgil trailed off as Wheatley raised an eyebrow. Mel laughed. Quick and melodic laughter.

“I’ll level with you, I didn’t think so either, and I didn’t have one until after you found me. I had a whisper about the third year here- and with practice and help from the doc it came back.” Mel laughed at some distant memory as she came to a stop in front of a two story building. Much like the ones around it.

  It wasn’t much. It had one big glass window to the side, separated by a wooden frame from a glass door. The window blocked with curtains. The big glass window had large, sun-faded gold letters reading “Sun Bird Bakery”, with the door having the name in smaller words over a set of numbers. Time. A flip sign hanging inside the door read ‘CLOSED’. Wheatley repeated the building’s name out loud.

“Has a nice ring, doesn’t it? We wanted to call it Phoenix Bakery. Some sort of metaphor Chell really liked. But the book shop down the street took it,” Mel responded while pulling a key from her pocket and unlocking the door. She allowed Virgil and Wheatley to step inside first. The rain soaked their clothing every second they were under it- and she didn’t need to drag more water inside than she had too. However she couldn’t help but bark out a quick laugh as the top of Wheatley’s forehead collided with the top of the doorframe. Mel was thankful the ceilings were much taller than he was.

  The boys stood and looked around the room as Mel closed and shook out her umbrella outside. Dull light poured over the window curtain bar to reveal a simple place. Checkerboard floors and pale blue walls. Tables sat in neat order about the middle and far left of the room. In the back was a long counter. A doorway that sat curtained off was behind it. Yellow light seeping from the top and bottom of the black curtain. To their right, with a landing three steps up and nestled in the corner just past where the window stopped, was a set of stairs going right and up.

  Mel walked towards the landing, avoiding the dripping water the boys left around them. “I’ll go grab you two some towels” she said before disappearing up the stairs. She was up and gone before either could get a word in.

  Neither of them moved in the few moments it took for Mel to return with two white fluffy towels in tow. Virgil was working water from his ponytail while Wheatley aggressively dried his short hair. Mel smiled and led them upstairs into her apartment. Wheatley was the first one in and this time Virgil let out a short laugh when his head hit another door frame. Both of them stood in front of the door and stared at the apartment.

  The apartment was bigger than the outside cared to admit. With a wooden floor and pale green paint on the walls. To their left was the front of the building, the wall holding two tall windows that looked out onto the street. Between those windows was an ancient leather couch. An old recliner was pushed towards the inner wall- with a simple fireplace mirroring it on the far side of the room. Various objects sat on the mantle that was framed on both sides with tall, overflowing bookshelves. A dark green rug was pushed under everything, and centering the living room wasa coffee table.

  To their right was a kitchen that was equipped with modern kitchen basics. Fridge, oven, sink. With a simple island in the center. The white counters formed an L shape, cutting itself its own space in the room. The divide between the two rooms was a small table. Four chairs around the paper-cluttered surface. On the far right wall, and on the nearest right wall, were four doors. The two in the far corner were bedrooms, on the near wall was a linen closet and a bathroom.

  Small, homely details made the place better. The books, the vase of flowers on the table, cutting board on the island, the table next to the door with a bowl sitting on top, and the near abstract painting over the mantle.

  Mel stood in the centre. Hands on her hips and a proud grin on her face. Virgil hadn’t seen a human apartment before, and thus couldn’t really compare it to anything else. But if she was proud of it, than he could be too.

“It’s nice,” He said while looking around from his place by the door.

  Wheatley had a harder time thinking of what to say, sitting in near the same boat as Virgil when it came to comparisons. However, being Wheatley, he couldn’t not say anything about the environment.

“It looks good! Very- uh- very home-y? Liking the green walls here, outdoorsy. Oh, loving the roof through. Very... roof-ish. Water-tight. Always an important thing to have in a roof. Very good.”

  Mel’s smile melted into a smirk before she crossed her arms. “Shoes off, jackets on hangers,” she said expectantly. Unlike Wheatley, Virgil hesitated a moment longer when taking off his jacket and hanging it up on the coat rack beside the door. Holding his bag by the strap in one hand. It took only a few moments before shoes and soaked socks were hanging in front of the fireplace to dry. Leaving only one problem left to deal with.

  She had no change of clothes for the two. She and Chell were far from the size of Wheatley the Giant or the smaller Virgil. The clothing shop should still be open, as it was only six o’clock, but the clerk working that day was addicted to his gossip. Buying male clothes would only alert all of the teenage residents to their presence, as opposed to the few busy-bodies in the square.

  With a sudden idea, Mel moved to a dull green phone on the wall. Punching in numbers and quietly waiting for the person to answer. Leaving the guests to stand awkwardly at the door. “Don’t just stand about! Go ahead and sit on the floor or look around,” she said. “Shut the door too, please,” she added quickly as she heard the call connect.

  Doing as asked, the boys shut the door and planted themselves on the carpet. Virgil in front of the active fireplace, and Wheatley sitting near with his back to the couch’s arm. After a few moments of quiet bartering on the phone, and glances to Wheatly, Mel returned to them.

“Alrighty. My friend Mick is lending some old clothing for you. Pretty sure they’ll fit Cheaters here too,” Mel said, gesturing to Wheatley with an open hand. Said robot looked both confused and slightly offended.

“I-I’m sorry but did you just call me _Cheaters_?” he asked quickly. His tone both accusing and questioning. The only response he gained was Mel tapping next to her eye. Wheatley mirrored the action with a confused look, only managing to tap the frame of his glasses. It clicked. “Oh.”

“Anyways, Chell is picking them up. She’ll be home from her ride in about an hour.”

“Who’s Chell? You mentioned her before...” Asked Virgil.

“Ah. My roommate. You’ll like her.”

  Mel moved and settled on the couch nearest the two. Reading a book about the space race and leaving her shoes abandoned by the door. Wheatley fiddled with the rabbit charm as he stared at the fire. Virgil sat cross legged and looked through his bag. Laying everything out to check for damage.

  The journal and wallet were lost causes to break into. The books were in good shape, same with the small tool set and the graphite. When Virgil picked up one of the books- the one written in the strange language and switched it for the other one.

  It had sticky notes folded and pressed between the pages to keep the side of the book even. The book itself was written in English, the notes weren't however. Everything neatly written in the same words the first book was written in. Virgil settled to read what he could. He read for a good amount of time before he found the first dried flower pressed between the pages. He flipped through the pages to find glimpses of leaves and other flowers. He moved to pick a daisy out of the middle- where the sticky notes suddenly stopped. He was wondering why it was there when the front door opened. Everyone's heads snapped up to look at the noise.

  At the door, tossing a pair of padlock keys into the bowl, was a woman in her late twenties. Tan skin covered by a closed black rain coat and jeans. She had sharp grey eyes and dark black hair pulled into a ponytail. Smaller strands of hair sticking to her face with the rainwater. In the crook of her arm sat two wrapped parcels. Wheatley froze when he saw her, but she didn’t stop moving to close the door.

“Welcome back, Chell. How was your bike ride?” Asked Mel, getting a simple shrug in response as the parcels were set in the bowl and her coat was removed. Showing off the blue tank top she wore underneath. Hanging the coat beside Virgil’s, Chell nodded at the parcels and then the boys on the floor. The both of them somewhat more dry than before, but not by much.

“Right! These are the two newcomers Mick told you about! They came from the north road,” Chell visibly tensed and Mel quickly went to calm her, “They’re harmless! I promise! One if actually an old friend of mine, and they’re going to explain themselves as soon as they’re in dry clothing. Okay?”

  As Chell nodded, Virgil swept some of this things in the bag and set his flowery novel on the coffee table. Standing up and cautiously approaching Chell. He extended an open hand and offered a smile. Wanting nothing more than to make a good impression. “I’m Virgil. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Chell raised an eyebrow but returned the handshake. Once it was done both looked to Wheatley. Waiting for him to stand and introduce himself properly. Said Android didn’t want to stand, suddenly extremely worried about how this situation would unfold. Still, he stood up shakily and fixed his glasses, setting the rabbit necklace on the table.

  Noting his sudden change in stature Virgil glanced at Chell. She was slightly intimidating- yes. But not enough to scare the easily frightened Maintenance Core. So it made him curious to see that this was enough to turn the chatterbox named Wheatley into a quiet, shaking mess. With a small, nervous chuckle and the unnecessary readjusting of his glasses Wheatley said-

“Uh- Well,” Chell was completely frozen, “Hello Luv.”

 

========

 

  Chell didn’t know how to react. Instead, she froze and processed what she had learned in the past five minutes.

  Two men with weird tinted-skin and eyes appeared from the north road. One of them was an old friend of Mel’s. However Mel was straight from the 1950’s, if her story was true. The only friend she had before Hope was an old yellow core. That whole ordeal was years ago. She would’ve dismissed all of it in favour of thinking the two as former Aperture test subjects from the same test as Mel. But that voice drew everything together in a jumbled mess.

  Now that two and two were together, Chell could properly react to the situation.

 Chell moved past Virgil and marched across the room at a too-quick-for-casual pace towards Wheatley. Her surprised expression quickly being exchanged for an angry one as she held up an arm to punch the traitorous core. Mel reacted faster and was between the two as Chell threw her punch. Chell’s fist colliding into Mel’s hand with a _thwack_.

“What has gotten into you? I knew you were a Bearcat sometimes but seriously! Can you resort to not punching people who say hello!?” Mel pushed Chell back a few feet. Putting distance between the confused android and the tense woman. Chell took up an all too familiar stance. Alert and heavily uneasy. The mere look in her eyes was enough to make Mel look back at Wheatley and then to her roommate a few times before she made eye contact with Chell. It clicked.

“Oh. I see,” Mel picked up a calm, motherly tone, “well, we can all calm down, let these two change clothing, and talk this out like adults.” Chell glared at Wheatley, before Mel stood with arms crossed and an eyebrow raised, then she sighed and abandoned her tense stance. It was no use fighting Mel when she picked up that tone. The boys each took a parcel, Virgil going to change in the apartment’s bathroom and Wheatley was led downstairs to change there.

  Chell had taken an annoyed seat on the couch as Mel walked back in. Cracking the door a bit so Wheatley could walk back in. “You alright, Hun?” Mel asked, carefully taking a seat beside Chell. Said girl rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. Leaning her head back against the top of the couch to stare at the ceiling. Mel sighed and shook her head, “You’re judging a book by it’s cover again.” Chell’s head whipped around to look at the older woman, some bitten back retort on her tongue. Mel only kept a calm, if not slightly worried, expression.

“It’s been five years since you got out. That means five years since he’s been exiled. If he was in space for that long don’t you think he’d learn his lesson?” Silence hung between them. “Time changes people, Chell. It’s changed you. Maybe it’s changed him, too. At least give the guy a _chance_ at redemption.”

“What if he does it again?”

  Chell's question was quiet. Voice cold with annoyance and some other emotion that couldn’t be pinpointed.

“Does what, _betray you_? If he does, then I’ll deal with him... Does this mean you’ll give him a chance?”

  The two made eye-contact for a few moments before Chell glared at the coffee table. Directly at that strange necklace Wheatley was so careful with setting down.

“ _Fine_ ” Chell huffed, causing a quiet smile to cross Mel’s features. Just then, Virgil walked out of the bathroom holding a clump of his old clothing. Office attire exchanged for a pair of well-worn jeans and an old grey band t-shirt. Mel pointed to a basket under the dining table, gesturing him to drop them in there. Virgil did as directed and sat on the floor across the coffee table from Mel. Fiddling with the hem of the grey t-shirt before picking up his book to turn it over in his hands repeatedly.

  Wheatley walked in dressed in a blue polo and black jeans. He dropped his clothes in the same basket as Virgil and sat beside him. Avoiding eye contact with the still annoyed Chell. The air was tense, cut only by the calm smile Mel never seemed to wipe off her face.

“What would you like to know?” Asked Virgil, looking between the two humans. Burying his calming nerves as the book flipped in his hands.

“Start with what you two are. If you were- what were they- personaility cores?” Virgil nodded in confirmation. "Then why do you look so… human?” Mel asked, looking to Chell to confirm that was the right question. Chell nodded and Virgil took to answering.

“Oh, that’s easy. We’re still personality constructs just- not in a core shell. These shells that we’re in now are Aperture Science Human Relations Portable Androids, if we want specifics. They were meant to show off to visiting volunteers and possible-customers. To sell product. When Aperture actually _made_ products. But the shells never got used by actual HR Reps before the experiment was shut down after GLaDOS was powered up.”

“But I thought you were a mechanic. Why need a HR shell?” Mel quickly followed.

“Heh. Before I was a mechanic I was meant for HR. Something about my personality coding made me good with people. So I was put in the department. Which is why my shell was so oddly painted. When Aperture stopped needing HR reps like me, I was repurposed for the Repair Bay.”

“Why are you here?”

  This time it was Chell who asked. Voice still cold, yet exhausted. She stared straight at Wheatley in a flat expression. Wheatley stared back in a confused and interested gaze, mouth slightly agape before he spoke.

“You speak!” He barked, “That- That’s a surprise! I thought the whole brain damage thing stopped that. The- the whole speech thing, that is. Wow- Okay that’s- i-i-it’s not bad thing Luv-”

“Chell.”

“R-right. Chell. I-In fact it’s amazing! Better than amazing it’s great!”

“Wheatley, can you answer the question, please?” Mel asked softly, snapping Wheatley out of his rambling. Face lighting up with a soft blue with embarrassment. He looked to Virgil in a ‘do I have to answer _this_ one?’ sort of expression. He was greeted with only an expectant stare from the red-headed robot. Wheatley faked clearing his throat, sitting straight and tense.

“ _Well_. She didn’t know if the transfer would actually _work_. So she wanted to pull an experiment to test it out. And since I’m- well in her words since I’m...  _expendable_ … she wanted me as the original trial run. But Virgil ended up being patient zero.” he trailed off to let Virgil finish off the story. Mel quickly looked at Virgil in curiosity. Wondering what exactly _Virgil_ of all people could do to make some scary computer woman turn him into a robotic guinea pig.

Virgil caught this expression and sighed. “Well. While I was fixing this one so he would come back online-" he gestured to Wheatley, "-GLaDOS went through old testing footage. She found your file, Mel. And since I basically broke the age-old rule of ‘ _Don’t let test subjects out of the facility without clearance_ ’, I got only the delayed consequence. So She threw us into these shells and out into the wild in exile.”

  Chell was set off by all this. Why put robots into human-looking devices if she was going to let them go? It wasn’t like Her to just let advanced equipment go in the first place. It also wasn’t like Her to take a _traitor_ who _literally tried to murder both Her and Chell_ and give him an _upgrade_. It all didn’t add up in her head, and she was about to say so when Mel spoke up.

“I… Oh. I’m so sorry about that…”

“N-No! No Mel, Don’t be. It’s all worked out, we’re not hurt. You’re not hurt. There is nothing to apologise for,” Virgil said quickly. Attempting to keep Mel for taking on any guilt for the situation. Even if she was a major factor. Chell shoved the unadding variables under a different train of thought. Mostly centering around giving Virgil an odd look. He was definitely a stark contrast to the few bots she’d met inside the facility’s walls. The room got quiet.

“So! How did you two get to Hope?” Mel asked, quickly dragging the conversation in the other direction. She did this often when the atmosphere was tense and the conversation stale.

“By chance, actually. We got out and just started walking on the nearest visible road. And kept walking. Not really a whole lot to explain.” Wheatley visibly relaxed enough to let his shoulders slouch.

“Oh! What was it like in space?” Mel asked quickly, as if remembering she wanted the long-awaited answer to an old question. Eyes shining with a sudden childlike wonder. Wheatley rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.

“Quiet. _Really_ quiet. I had Space Core to make noise on the radio, though. Talked about space, he did. All the time. There were lots of rocks too. Meteors, asteroids. Bloody hurt when they run into you. Space wasn’t really all that amazing-” Mel’s excited expression fell, “-B-But that’s just my opinion! I don’t know what a human would think of space.”

  Mel’s expression brightened.

\----

  Time moved quickly now that big questions were out of the way. Even though Chell never got the chance to ask about the missing variables. Mel had gotten up to start cooking, insisting Virgil stay in the living room while she made dinner. Reluctantly, Virgil took seat beside the fireplace to continue reading the beginning of the story. Twirling flowers in his hand when he came across pages with them.

  Wheatley looked through one of Mel’s books on space, with permission, as Chell stayed on the couch. Knees at her chest, heels on the edge of the couch cushion, and watching Wheatley. Thinking. Analyzing.

  The sky got dark quickly and the window blinds were shut after the sun went to bed. Lamps clicked on, filling the living room with soft orange light and the kitchen with brighter, white light. Wheatley found himself glad he wasn’t still walking out in the wet darkness. The radio on the kitchen softly played old jazz music. When Mel called dinner, Chell got up. Her knees popped with a loud CRACK that startled Wheatley enough to make him jump.

“ _What_ was _that_!?” he yelled loud enough to snap Virgil away from his worded world.

“Cracked my knees?” Chell said, raising an eyebrow as she rose to her feet.

“ _Cracked_!? Are you injured? I didn’t know humans could injure vital organs at will!”

“Knees aren’t organs,” interjected Virgil while rolling his eyes. He stood and went to see what Mel was doing. Slipping a dried maple leaf between his pages like a bookmark.

  Wheatley's face turned a bright blue as his mouth opened and closed like a fish. Figuring out what words to say. Chell walked past and he looked after with nothing but interest. ‘Humans are fascinating’ the thought before putting his book on the table and rising to follow.

“Do either of you eat food or something?” Mel asked, pulling two plate from a cupboard and reaching for a third. Virgil answered with an apologetic no and the cupboard was shut with a soft thump.

  Dinner was more or less a mess of tense, idle chatter and soft jazz music. Going past in such a blur to Wheatley. Not stepping back into the normal flow of time until he was stretched out across the couch. Darkness everywhere if it wasn’t for the dull light of the streetlamp peeking through the blinds to cast a few orange bars across the ceiling.

  Wheatley could recall telling the humans about sleep-mode. And so they granted both Wheatley and Virgil a couch pillow and a blanket. Virgil was set up on the floor for the night. A heavy quilt between him and the floor, the pillow between his bent arm and his head to keep him propped up. He was already out. Eyes closed, icon black, laying on his side comfortably, and his breathing normal. Regulated. The orange backlighting of the Aperture logo lazily blinked in time with his breaths.

  Wheatley staring blindly at the ceiling without his glasses, which lay folded on the coffee table no more than an arm’s reach away. His mind was a mess replaying the events since the square, and his ears kept him grounded to the world with the dull white noise of the rain on the window. He slowly shut down, lazily mimicking a human dozing off to sleep. Perhaps it was the lack of full sunlight that made him so tired.

  The power level wasn’t dangerously low- but it was still enough to cause a very small amount worry to roll in Wheatley’s purely figurative stomach. Sleep mode was now set and it drug his eyes closed. Wheatley mimicked a content sigh, ready to shut down and blank out a few useless hours until someone else woke up. At least he would have shut down if it wasn’t for a sudden jolt of energy waking up every system at once. Like lighting traveling through his veins searching for the ground. Making the android sit up near instantly.

“ _Wake up, Moron_.”

Wheatley would’ve yelled if it wasn’t for his voice being disabled.

“ _Judging by the fact you were entering sleep mode, I assume Maintenance is asleep, too. Best not wake him up- ‘less you want to tell him what you’re doing._ ”

A quick glance to the maintenance bot on the floor told Wheatley he was still asleep. _Good_. Speech returned but Wheatley remained silent. Was that a threat he heard? Yes, he’s already being threatened, but was it really necessary to do it again? A better question surfaced- how was She in his head?

“ _If you’re wondering how you can hear me and how I can hear you- it’s the radio._ ”

Oh. That’s how.

“ _It’s a temporary connection. Report. Now._ ”

“Bloody Hell,” Wheatley muttered, rubbing a hand over his face and falling backwards on the couch. Laying on his back with his hand in his hair.

“ _I’m waiting._ ”

“We- ugh. We walked south for a week, found this town named Hope where we found Mel and Chell,” Groaned the android tiredly. Voice still a quiet murmur that could pass for sleep talk to anyone with hearing sharp enough to hear him. He shouldn’t be sounding tired. His battery was lower than before. Perhaps the sudden reboot took too much power?

“ _Chell… Interesting. Is that all you have?_ ”

“Yes,” Said Wheatley exasperated, “Can I sleep now?”

  She let an interested hum play through the radio before she signed off. Sounding warped and electronic through her voice. Wheatley, now alone in his head, was not looking forward to reports. If it meant someone else was speaking in his head, there would be nothing was discomfort.

  Wheatley rubbed both hands over his face before staring up at the ceiling. He groaned in frustration before letting his hands fall to his sides. He shut his systems down faster this time- whether from exhaustion or to keep anyone from jolt-starting his systems, he didn't know. Or care. The world went dark after the constant drone of rain faded out faster than the blurred ceiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't properly edited this, so. Yeah. Have a chapter officially typed up on my last day of school!! I'm still going to apologise if anyone is OOC.


	6. Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much dialogue. I apologize. Just pure flashback chapter. Ugghhh the childrennn. Sorry again for ooc.

Virgil sat at his desk. Feverishly writing in a small leather-bound journal with a near-dead black ink pen. The words scrawled on the page were foreign to almost everyone in his workplace. The exception being him. He was raised on these words and found they came much more easily to him than the second English. Beside him was a half-eaten sandwich. Neatly resting on a layer of plastic wrap beside a fresh copy of the Outsiders. Sticky notes filling the sides already.

 The only noise in the room was Virgil’s pen scratching at paper, the white noise of the fan, and the sound of machinery outside the small office. Everything keeping silence at bay in a calm ambiance he’d grown accustomed to.

 The pen died in Virgil’s hand just as he finished his entry. Now he was only halfway through the book’s pages. As a result of the pen’s passing, Virgil sighed and slumped back in his swivel chair. Staring up at the seam of the ceiling where it met with the dark tan wall.

 His desk was pushed against the farthest wall from the door. Along the walls between this door and Virgil were bookshelves. Filled with boxes, books, and binders. All the things he needed to keep up his job in accounting for a run-of-the-mill California shoe factory. Above the desk were photographs, drawings, large-fonted notes, and of course- his pride and glory- Virgil’s college degrees. Accounting, Computer Science, and Engineering. The only things landing him this job in the dry American southwest.

 Virgil had graduated at 25, near two years ago that day according to the calendar on his desk. He was still 27, with the 30 year milestone fast approaching, a year that most people had entered with something to show off. A shiny job, or some partner, or maybe even a steady life that they enjoyed. Something they could be proud about. This upcoming age only made Virgil think about how much he _hated_ accounting.

 Of course, there were people who loved this job. Who enjoyed numbers and filing and keeping things in order. People who _wanted_ to be in this field were commended for their work by Virgil, but it wasn’t for him. Accounting was a good job for anyone but the day-dreaming, part-time scientist who only wanted to tinker with new ideas all day. The only reason he had the degree for it was to fulfill a promise to a sadly-passed father.

 While lost in thought, Virgil didn’t hear the door open. Only snapping back into reality when there was a knock on the door frame. Virgil turned in his spinning chair to spot Lukas. The newcomer was casually leaning against the door frame with a smug-looking smirk and a hand obviously hiding something behind his back.

“Got a second, Virg?” Lukas asked. He wasn’t much taller than Virgil, only about an inch and a half. Lukas was 29, red hair only slightly lighter than Virgil’s and kept much shorter. Green eyes underlined by freckles, which only stood out thanks to the angry red sunburn on his face. He wore jeans and a t-shirt. Covered by a dark red letterman jacket with lighter red sleeves. The collar and ends a dark tan with a gold stripe cutting through the middle. The lack of extra patches on the coat threw Virgil off, but he pushed past the weird feeling to smile at the familiar face.

“Yeah, I’m on break. What are you doing here?” Virgil asked while waving a hand to beckon his brother inside. Virgil closed the journal as Lukas entered the office. His gait slower than usual. Making it painfully obvious that whatever was hidden behind his back was meant to be seen by Virgil.

“Well, en bror. You know how we _love_ you,” Lukas began as if he was about to start a long-winded speech.

“What do you want?” Virgil groaned loudly, sitting up straight and completely spinning his chair to see Lukas’ attempt at being sly.

“Now hold up just a minute. So you know  we, as your siblings, love you very much-”

“Yeah.”

“And how I’ve _always_ wanted a farm north-east-”

“We don’t have the money to buy a farm, Luke. Plus jobs are hard enough to find, let alone one that pays enough to support a beginner’s farm.”

“Well you see, that’s where _this_ comes in.”

 Virgil bridged his fingers and raised an eyebrow as Lukas pulled an open envelope from behind his back. Slightly wrinkled, but still highly formal looking.

“See- _you_ hate it here. _I_ hate it here. _Robin_ hates it here. And there’s a pretty good agreement that your job… well your job _sucks_ Virg. _A lot._ SO. Robin and I both decided to do a bit of digging to see how we can get rid of all the negative hate. It’s unhealthy to raise impressionable sisters in a negative environment, you know.”

“What did you two _do_?”

“I’m getting to that! We went hunting online. She hunted for good schools in the northeast. Found a pretty good one in this farming town in the hills. North-ish middle of Michigan. Nothing fancy. _I_ hunted for a house. Found this _gorgeous_ three bedroom farmhouse and a bit of land. Perfect walking distance from that school’s last bus-stop and a daily commute. The land is _amazing_ for cultivating a new life for three immigrant siblings. Gonna use my agricultural knowledge from college on that land.”

“And how do you think you’ll pay to move up there?”

“That's where _you_ come in. _You_ have a job interview.”

 Virgil nearly doubled over.

“ _A job interview._ Lukas have you gone **_mad_**!?” Virgil stage whispered loudly. Eyes glancing quickly to the open door of his office. Lukas rolled his own eyes dramatically and moved to kick the door shut with his foot. Then he crossed the room and held the envelope out to Virgil. Who only looked between his brother’s cheeky grin and the paper being held out to him.

“Virgil Stig Svendsen, you have been accepted for a job interview with Aperture Science Innovators up in Northern Michigan. Courtesy of Robin and I secretly sneaking your resume and application paperwork into the mail last month.”

“You- I. What- and- But that means we’d-”

“Have to leave the dreary California desert for a state that has more than one season? Oh _come on_ , Bror! Think about it! You could leave a shoe factory to do science in an official lab while living in a place that has actual _seasons_! With really good pay! Good pay to do _science_ , Virg! Robin can go to an awesome school and I can have a farm and raise crops and uh- _things_.”

“Things.”

“Yeah! Things! Like- the things that um… Shit what’s the word,” Lukas’ face switched from excitement to concentration, “people race them I think. They got carriages and riding things-”

“Horses?”

“YES! HORSES! We could raise _horses_! All you gotta do is go out there for a visit- do your little interview and give those science nerds some Svendsen razzle dazzle-”

“Razzle dazzle?”

“Shut up- just razzle dazzle thost science nerds and then come back to get us once you get it! Fool proof!”

“Lukas you’re insane.”

“Thanks. But don’t you want to get out of the desert? Go somewhere that isn’t dead heat? With seasons that aren’t just ‘dead hot’ and ‘slightly cooler dead hot’? Live in a place where you can wear a jacket for warmth and not just fashion? Be _cold_ again?”

 It was quiet as Virgil replayed the conversation with his brother. Yes, he hated living in the desert. Hated the massive change from their home country and the desert state. But the idea he proposed sounded ludicrous. Staking all this on a job interview he had been volun-told to attend and didn’t even know about until seconds ago?

 Still.

 It was a chance to escape accounting. A chance to leave brown dirt for green trees. Leave beside discount shoes for a job where he wouldn’t be filing taxes and keep account books all day. A job he could be proud to show off once that milestone hit. This could be exactly what he was looking for.

 Lukas was giving Virgil _the look._ Even being older- he could still pull off being a child. Virgil sighed and crossed his arms. Trying to keep a straight face. Despite the disappointment on his face, there was a tone behind the sigh that had Lukas’ eyebrows raised.

 Suppressing a smile, Virgil huffed a quick “fine.”

“YES! Tusen takk!!” Lukas bear hugged the younger male, despite him still sitting. Virgil laughed and pat the other’s back as he repeated the same thanks. “You’re the best brother ever!”

“I know. Oh and hey Luke?"

"What?"

"Isn't Michigan in the Midwest?"

 

========

 

 Wheatley’s leg bounced as he looked around the bus. Spotting tourists and middle-of-the-day commuters around him. The bus inched through traffic, and only allowed time to eat at Wheatley’s once calm composure. Letting the face of an anxiety-ridden male show through.

 Was it really okay for Wheatley to take off early? Yeah, he had plenty of hours put in in the office. And yeah, it was his last day. But what if they needed him _today_? Would the office set fire in a corner only he could reach? What if Mary needed to get her mug off the top shelf because Stephen thinks it’s funny to watch the short female struggle? What if someone needed a memo passed to someone across the building, and only his quick legs could carry it fast enough? He didn’t want him leaving to be an inconvenience to anyone.

 ‘ _The_ _only good thing about being tall_ ,’ Wheatley thought, ‘ _is that I’m of use to those shorter than me.’_ He sighed and ran a hand over his face as he did. Combing that same hand through his hair and resting it on the top of his head. Internally groaning at how oily his skin and hair were. Wheatley regretted skipping his shower and sleeping through his alarm earlier this morning. It just set him up for a bad day, especially because it threw off his _entire_ morning routine.

 With a glance to his watch, Wheatley noted that he was five minutes later than he planned to be. And traffic would bump that number up even more. He’d have to apologize to Michael when he got to the park. _If_ Michael was still _at_ the park.

 What was he thinking? _Of course_ Michael was still at the park. Jack would outright _refuse_ to leave until he got to see Wheatley. No matter how much his father would promise ice cream. Wheatley loved that his only nephew loved him so much.

The bus pulled in screeching into his stop five minutes later and Wheatley quickly got off. Walking in the direction of a local park. His quick, long-legged strides carried him faster than expected as his mind raced with a scripted conversation. A conversation about him trying to explain to sweet little Jack and his best friend Michael about his job change. The thought flipped Wheatley’s stomach in an uncomfortably figurative way.

 He was so swept up in his ‘lines’ that he completely passed the park’s entrance. Not even noticing until he was on the street corner. Wheatley spun on his heel was walked back to the park and stood. Scanning for any trace of his family.

 The park was full of dead grass and play equipment. There weren’t many children playing about thanks to the cold day, most likely because of the bite in the early January air. Wheatley adjusted the battered black hoodie, letting his hand fiddle with his tie as he spotted a male sitting on a bench. Watching a young boy- a near splitting image of the older- play on the swings with an unknown child.

 Wheatley gingerly took the seat next to the man, muttering a quick apology to being late. Michael Glauner was a familiar face in a sea of strangers that existed in London. His former wife was Wheatley’s late sister- but their friendship had existed since grade school. With his short black hair, tan skin, and dark brown eyes, along with a smile that could melt ice, Wheatley was genuinely surprised someone hadn’t snatched him off the street. Bonus points for having an adorably small mini-me as a son.

“Don’t worry about it. Traffic n’ all. So, all-knowing Wheatley, why have you summoned us to this meeting?” Joked Michael. His laugh was heart and his grin wide. Wheatley relaxed and let out a shaky breath. Dropping his tie to rub the back of his neck nervously. Michael’s grin faltered. “Hey, Wheat. You alright mate?”

 Wheatley simply let out a loud sigh and slumped hard against the bench. Not bothering to react to his spine audibly hitting the wooden back. Michael raised an eyebrow and leaned forward. Elbows on his knees and fingers bridged. Looking at his life-long friend worriedly.

“Not about to confess a long-lasting crush on me, are you?”

 The joke made Wheatley crack a ghost of a smile. Causing Michael to relax a bit.

“No mate, you know I don’t do romance.”

 Michael laughed. “I know. Just messing. But seriously, what’s bothering you?”

 Wheatley sighed again and waved a hand uselessly in the air. Trying to figure out the words to say. The script in his head was ruined, time to improv. Wheatley _hated_ improv. It made him ramble. Which was problematic enough already. Jack and the stranger’s kid moved from the swings to the see-saw.

“I quit my job?”

“You sound unsure. Was it dramatic?”

“No. I definitely quit my job. And it wasn’t dramatic. Just a simple ‘Morning Linda! I’m leaving!’ and all I got was a simple, ‘yeah. I know.’ and that was that. Quit my job.”

“She knew you were leaving?”

“Yeah. I think my new boss must’ve called and told her.”

“New boss?”

“Yeah uh- I got the job at Aperture.”

 The worried expression Michael held turned to simple joy. “Wheatley! That’s amazing! We should celebrate!” With a shake of Wheatley’s head, Michael stopped talking. “Is it not a good thing?”

 Wheatley let out a frustrated groan and leaned forward. Digging his bony elbows into his knees and burying his forehead into his palms. Michael was immediately prepared to help if his friend was about to panic.

“Want to talk about it?”

 Wheatley nodded.

“Take your time, mate.”

“It’s just- I’m happy I got the job. It’s astrophysics. I _love_ astrophysics.”

“Of course you love astrophysics. You _majored_ in astrophysics.”

“Yeah and this job gets me out of boring tech support. And you know how _agonizing_ tech support can be. Wanted to throw my face into a wall so many times. I think I actually did once. It might’ve been the desk though.”

“Wheat.”

“Right, sorry.”

“It’s fine, keep going.”

“Okay, but- getting the Aperture position means I have to move and I don’t think I’m ready to leave? Or like- live on my own? I mean I already live on my own but I mean live on my own as in I won’t have you or Jack so close by. So maybe I should drop it and go work at Target or something.”

“Drop it- No! Wheat, you like science. This is a once in a life-time job opportunity! Not just anyone can get into this place! It could skyrocket your career. It doesn’t matter how far away Jack and I are. We’re family. We’re never really _that_ far away.”

“I guess so....”

“Right! So you’re going to improve your life and take your dream job by the reigns.”

“What if my dream job is Target?” Wheatley joked, cracking a half-smile.

“Then this is your second dream job.”

“Nothing wrong with second place.”

“Exactly! So! Where are you moving to? I can help you find a flat somewhere.”

“Michigan.”

 If Michael was drinking water, he would have done the most beautiful spit-take known to man.

“ _Michigan_?!”

 Wheatley winced at the sudden raise in volume.

“Yeah. That’s where their only branch is. The CEO- I think his name is Cave Johnson- bought some underground salt mine or something. Had a phone interview with him…”

“Michigan’s on the other side of the world, Wheat.”

“You see why I’m scared?”

“Yeah.”

 The two sat in silence. Michael’s leg bounced worriedly as Wheatley sat with a calm expression. Having worked his nerves up so much that he gave a pure illusion of peace.

“You’re still taking the job."

“You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Uncle Wheatley!”

“Oh _god_ , what am I going to tell Jack?”

“I don’t know, he’s your nephew.”

“He’s your son.”

“Shit, you got a point.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get something out all day but procrastinated because I /had/ some human interaction at the end? But I got stuck on it? So just have their dreams in yet another unedited chapter typed at 2AM. And space-loving Wheatley is awesome. AND I have a plan to turn him into the robot we know now and it'll be fun (half-lie. It'll hurt me).
> 
> If you wanna come chat/ask me about updates/talk about Portal my tumblr is techietheshit.tumblr.com.


End file.
